girl ― saved by captain america

[forty seven] uncovered

[Steve]

"Rainbow," Willa cheers happily as she points to the mess of fingerprints I've made in front of me across the art pad. Glancing over at her work, my heart softens as I notice she's been trying to recreate my pattern.

"Not quite, sweetheart," I correct gently with a chuckle, picking up all the pots that we've scattered across the area and putting them together in a pile. "The rainbow has a specific order. Do you know what it is?" The little girl shakes her head, a little bit of paint smudged adorably across her nose. I made sure to have her change into an old tee shirt and pair of jammie shorts before we got started just in case things got extra messy, and now I'm definitely grateful that I did. Besides the yellow on her face, she's got a decent amount of paint smudged up her arms, and even some on her legs from sitting on the paper. I don't mind in the slightest, though. She's having fun, and that's all that matters to me.

"The first color is red. Can you find the red paint?" I prompt, hoping to make a learning experience out of creating the rainbow together.

Willa looks down at the several pots in front of her, picking up a few by their white caps and looking at them through the clear plastic before holding one out in front of her, stating, "Red."

"Almost, bug," I encourage. "That one's actually purple. Red is close to purple, but it's a little bit different." Frowning, the little girl sets the purple back down, her eyes again scanning over her options. After a few more moments, she picks up another one, offering it to me. "That's right, sweetie. Good job!" I praise, unscrewing the cap and offering it to her. She dips one of her tiny fingers into the paint, turning back to the paper and running her finger across it in a long arch.

"Red," she confirms, seeming pleased with the start.

"Next is orange," I tell her, recapping the red and placing it back down with the others.

"O-range," she sounds out the word, struggling a little bit with the "r."

"Yep. Do you know which one's orange?"

The little girl repeats the same process she went through with red, picking up a few different options before finally holding her guess out to me. "O-range," she says.

"That's right; you got it," I tell her with a smile. Uncapping the plastic pot, she holds it out for me. "Oh, you want me to make a line? Okay, we can take turns," I pick up on her idea, wetting a finger with the orange before running it along the paper next to the red arch.

"Red, o-orange," Willa recites, pointing to each color as she says it.

"Yep. Red, orange, and then yellow comes next," I tell her.

"Yellow!" she cheers, smiling brilliantly up at me.

"Yeah, and you've even got some yellow on your nose, you silly goose," I tease, poking her cheek with my orange finger. Willa squeals, wiping at her face with the back of her hand, causing the paint to smear. "This really is a big mess, huh?"

"Big mess," Willa beams, her eyes sparkling with joy. As I gaze softly down at the child, my heart can't help but swell with warmth and affection for the little one. She is the most precious thing in the whole entire world, I think to myself, and she doesn't even know it.

"Yellow's one of your favorites, so I bet you can find it," I encourage. Glancing down at her options, she immediately grabs the yellow, holding it up proudly.

"Yellow," she nods, not even needing my confirmation to begin unscrewing the cap. She dips her thumb into the thick paint, sliding it smoothly across the page in front of her next to the orange. "Red, orange, yellow," she lists.